


"Luigi Not Afraid"

by oldercolderfolder



Series: Waluigi is a Method Actor [1]
Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Gen, Tennis, Theatre, i am my own beta, makeup terminology, mario (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldercolderfolder/pseuds/oldercolderfolder
Summary: Since his debut in Mario Tennis, Waluigi has developed a hard-earned reputation as Wario's lanky lackey, with a fiery temper and a penchant for mischief. While Wario's greed, gluttony, and poor sportsmanship are well known, there's never been a clear answer as to what Waluigi's all about. What might he, with his loud, clear voice, striking facial features, strong stage presence, and evident dance training do in his free time?
Series: Waluigi is a Method Actor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826638
Kudos: 4





	"Luigi Not Afraid"

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could remember where this idea came from. Special thanks to Zelda and Summer for pushing me to write this.

10:45 PM. The motel room was dark, save for the light of the moon peeking through the blinds.

The sound of the tub filling with water dominated the space - not that it had to, since there was no other sound.

Waluigi sat on the edge of what was, for the time being, his bed, and cleared his throat and his mind. He'd been looking over his lines all night, repeating them flatly back to himself, trying not to think of them as words and to simply commit the motions of them to muscle memory. The production would open in just two weeks, and the text was remarkably dense, so he counted himself lucky that he was a professional.

He stuck his head into the bathroom to see if the tub was sufficiently full, which it was. He placed his script carefully on the nightstand next to the room's phone and took a moment to reflect on his place in the world. He found that he couldn't do this for too long, or else he'd start questioning his career choice, which is no fun when you're full-time. And Waluigi was _full-time_.

As he turned and started towards certain cleanliness, the phone rang and stopped him in his tracks. He moved to put the receiver to his ear, but the thick Italian accent of the voice on the other end got there first.

"... this weekend. I wanna show Mario a bad time. You in?" Did Wario know how the phone worked?

"Could you say that again? I didn't answer until after you started talking." Wario paused, probably to roll his eyes, and then repeated his question with the same cadence and intonation.

"There's a tennis tournament this weekend. I wanna show Mario a bad time. You in?"

Waluigi paused to roll his eyes, then got back into character. "You think Luigi will be there?"

"Yeah, probably," Wario said, in a way that made it sound like the question had surprised him. "I don't really keep tabs on him. Either way, we're gonna win," he surmised.

"Works for me," Waluigi said, because he already knew Luigi would be there, and because winning was always good.

"Great," replied Wario, and he said it like he meant it, though this was mitigated by the fact that he immediately hung up. Waluigi returned the receiver to the base and decided that, no, Wario probably didn't know how the phone worked.

Waluigi then finally arrived at the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Thinking about the character he would be playing, he made a few faces and struck a few poses to ensure that they would look the way that he hoped they would, which they did. As he was preparing to, at long last, make his way to the tub, he stopped himself when an idea struck - bereft of a way to take note of it, he decided it would be better to test it out now rather than carry on and risk forgetting.

Returning to the bedroom, he power-walked to his overnight bag (not that it made much difference; with how long his legs were, the distance of the room was a journey of only a few steps) and fished out his stage makeup kit from within. Setting up shop on the narrow sink in front of the mirror, he applied a thin layer of foundation along his cheekbones and around his eyes.

He counted himself lucky that he'd been held responsible for obtaining his own makeup - it seemed like the investment would pay off twofold. Early on in rehearsals, another member of the cast had gifted him a light blue eyeliner in the event that it could be used for his character; while that hadn't worked out, he thought, maybe it could work for Waluigi. He applied thick lines along the bottom of his eyelid and, returning to his kit, carefully highlighted the edges with a flat brush.

It was dramatic, but it was effective. Holding his prosthetic nose and chin up to his face in lieu of taking the time to apply them, he could tell it would work for Waluigi.

He almost stopped to think about what a stupid name that was, but cut off that train of thought before it could get anywhere. He knew that if he didn't believe it, then nobody would.

He washed off the makeup, returned his items to their proper place in his overnight bag, and finally made his way back to the tub to find that he'd let the water get cold. It took him another fifteen minutes to drain and refill it with properly hot water.


End file.
